


to get back home

by toxica939



Series: scaling fences [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 18:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13254117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: teenage best friends auWhat do you do the morning after you kiss your best mate for the first time?Aaron wakes up sweating, in a patch of late morning sunshine because he forgot to close his curtains again; he throws a heavy arm across his eyes, tries to sort through his hangover, and remembers. Then he has a wank and lies in his own filth until someone bangs on his door.





	to get back home

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on tumblr: "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

What do you do the morning after you kiss your best mate for the first time?

Aaron wakes up sweating, in a patch of late morning sunshine because he forgot to close his curtains again; he throws a heavy arm across his eyes, tries to sort through his hangover, and _remembers_. Then he has a wank and lies in his own filth until someone bangs on his door.

“Don't come in,” he shouts, clutching the sheets to his chest.

He can hear his mum scoff through the door. “Yeah right. Rob's downstairs if you can drag yourself out of your pit.”

Robert. Downstairs. And Aaron's lying here splattered in come with his mouth still buzzing from last night. Fuck.

He has the world's fastest shower, probably more Lynx than soap in the end, and barrels down the stairs.

Robert's sitting at the kitchen table, hands curled around a beer he hasn't cracked open. He's tapping at it with long fingers and Aaron's gaze just sort of gets caught there. It's not a new thing, but he's had those hands on him now, those fingers spidered up the back of his neck. That changes things.

“Alright?” Robert asks. He ducks his head a little when Aaron looks up, but he can see the smile creasing the corners of his eyes.

Aaron shoves his hands in his pockets as he makes his way around the sofa, so he doesn't do something stupid, like drag a hand through the messy hair at Robert's crown, or try to hold his hand or something. “You not drinking that?”

Robert picks the can up. “Nah. I thought maybe we could go from a drive out or something? But your mum offered,” he shrugs. “Didn't want to be rude.”

“S'never stopped you before,” Aaron points out. Robert and his mum get along about as well as Robert and most people who aren't Aaron; she thinks he's a pain in the arse, and he tolerates her for an easy life.

Robert ducks his head again. “Well. Before, we weren't...” he trails off, eyes on the table while his ears turn pink.

Aaron doesn't even try to hide his grin. “Weren't what?”

Robert huffs, stands to press the can against Aaron's chest until he has no choice but to take it. “Are you coming or what?”

:::

They wind the windows down, sun hot on Aaron's arm even while the wind ices through his hair. Robert lets him pick the music, lets him turn it up loud enough to scare the sheep they pass as Robert winds his dad's car higher up into the hills.

It's always annoyed Aaron, a bit, that Robert's older, got his license first so always assumes he gets to drive. It doesn't seem like such a big deal now; slumped in the passenger seat, watching Robert shout along to Aaron's third favourite song, watching him get the words wrong. It melts the last of his headache away, and by the time Robert eases the car to a stop, he's ready to crack open that can.

They wander down the ramblers path through a field, until the tree cover gets thicker, stream rushing near by. Aaron watches the sun dapple across his chest and down his legs as they walk, tries not to think about how this could seem romantic if he wanted it to. Tries not to wonder if that's what Robert was going for.

They talk about where Robert's going for uni (commuting to Leeds for lectures because his dad's a wanker and wont stump for the cash for halls) and where Aaron isn't (he's going full time at the garage, isn't he?) and about how they'll still see each other all the time, basically.

They sit on a fallen tree trunk, moss covered bark crumbling under their weight.

“So you're not planning on forgetting about me then,” Aaron asks. Looks at the ground when it doesn't come out as light-hearted as he was going for.

Robert elbows him, snags the mostly empty can from him for a swig of Aaron's luke-warm backwash. Grim.

“Do we have to go through all this again?” Robert asks.

Aaron shakes his head. “No. Just,” he shrugs. He really doesn't want to be the one to bring it up, but Robert's not saying anything and the weird tension stretching between them is starting to make Aaron's head hurt again.

Luckily, Robert's Robert. “I know,” he says, knocking their shoulders together. “I meant everything I said last night, you know? I'm not sorry.”

Aaron bites at his lip to hold his smile in, it only half works. “Me too.”

Robert nods to himself. “Right. Okay. That's good.”

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees, and the nervous laugh they share when their eyes meet turns into a real one.

This is it, Aaron thinks, this is the bit where it gets real, where they're not just kissing in the middle of a fight to prove something. This is the bit where it counts. The second kiss. The one that means Robert's doing it on purpose.

Except Robert seems content to just sit here, leaning against each other now, sure, but nothing they haven't done a thousand times. Aaron feels like he's going to come out of his own skin. He can't seem to keep still.

He opens his mouth to say something, when Robert beats him to it.

“So, why haven't you kissed me yet?”

It startles a laugh from him, fucking _thrilling_ to hear Robert turn that voice on him, finally. Fucking finally.

“Maybe I thought it was your turn,” he says, tries to keep his inhale steady but it's a losing battle.

Robert's hand comes up to stoke along Aaron's jaw, thumb rubbing at the line of it. “You don't have to be nervous,” he says.

Aaron wants to kick him, wants to tell him that none of his lines are going to work on Aaron. But he'd be a liar, he's already sunk. So he settles for a good old _fuck you_ , swallowed up in the space between them when Robert's mouth meets his.

The inside of Robert's mouth tastes like it did last night, like warm beer and the inside of Aaron's own. His bottom lip gives just right between Aaron's teeth, and he _likes_ it, if the way his fist clenches in Aaron's t shirt is anything to go by. Aaron tilts his head, gets a grip on Robert's chin to tilt his for him, dives back in when it seems like Robert might pull away.

This isn't anything like kissing Holly behind the canteen, or even Jackson Walsh last time they played Hotten Academy. This isn't just sweaty palms and feeling proud of himself for doing it right. For doing it at all.

This is the kind of kissing that's making his head spin. Robert's tongue in his mouth, hands all over over Aaron's back and he's still not close enough. Aaron wants to swing a leg over him, climb into his lap, and fucking _writhe_. Wants to do things he's only ever let himself think about in the dark. He doesn't. This is enough. Robert red-lipped and gasping, coming undone. This is enough.

 


End file.
